Deadlands: Anastasis & Wormwood

Easy Does It

“Easy Now Does It”

Jim Murphy helped a woman in a freakishly large and pink corseted dress out of the small door frame of Guest Investigations. Some small cash was coming in through the business, and Jim was finding that the life agreed with him. Mr. Guest had some kind of additional deal with a Union Agency of undisclosed nature as well. He knew before long he’d have more work than he knew what to do with. That didn’t both him. Eventually the two grand he’d made for his part in the stash wouldn’t take him all the way through life and he’d already spent $500 on gambling, women, and booze – the finest Denver had to offer.

Jim Murphy, old friend to the notorious outlaw Sam Bass turned informant, made a good assistant. Who would have guessed? The man knew he had to stay low, and Denver was as good a place as any for that. Who better to keep him safe than one of the few men to make sure the bloodthirsty killer Min didn’t fill him full of holes? And there were exceptionally few people that could protect him from outlaws that might remember Jim’s betrayal and want a little payback. Mr. Guest, while easy-going in everyday affairs, cold turn as cold as the coldest killer. Sometimes Jim wondered if the man had a soul when he looked him straight in the eyes. Maybe the man was just still deciding if good ole Jim was trustworthy. And Jim didn’t plan on betraying that trust any time soon – or anytime. Period.

Eugene Guest sat in his new chair behind a cherry wood desk, his feet kicked up onto the desk. He paged through the new addition of the Journal of Occult Sciences. Generally, he found their information lacking, or even worse, incorrect. But it was still a good read, and sometimes he got leads on new work. At any rate, it helped him keep the pulse on current events of a stranger sort. After the events of the past year he was enjoying a bit of downtime. He waved to Jim through the open doorway as his assistant left.

Alone now, he put aside the Journal and popped a secret compartment he has specially made for his desk. Inside were the remainders of the Piedmont Collective papers. They’d succeeded in getting business laws changed so that corporations could now be permanent collectives. They’d done this despite some heavy opposition that was worried these laws could be abused. But in the end, the Union could not jeopardize its railroad competition. It seemed that Helstromme lobbyists had a lot to do with this, and the Dixie Rails stood to gain from this because the Confederacy would follow suite quickly now that the Union had set precedence. Eugene couldn’t put his finger on why, but he felt like there was something at play between these lines, and it was bigger than the Transcontinental Railway – as big as that was in its own right. It seemed like someone behind the scenes was pulling some strings…setting the stage for something big. And the Piedmont Collective was knee deep in this swamp. Eugene took a contemplative sip of brandy. He’d bring this up next time he contacted the Agency… He spent a few more hours combing through the legal files, and then he locked them back up. His first package from the Agency was arriving in the post today. He didn’t want to be late for that.